Having lived with both depression for decades and then adding on anxiety some years ago, I hear you. I recognize your struggles. Depression suuucks, and lies, all the time. But anxiety? Anxiety can kill you. And the kick in the (literal) head is that you can have both at the same time, they are completely different systems in the brain. Fun stuff.
Thank you for sharing this, for speaking up. In doing so you help to end the stigma, you give people hope, and you remind us that help is available - that treatment can work. Respect and gratitude - my highest praise.
[A digression, my own story (apologies):
All three of my children inherited the Serious Mental Illness that runs back generations on both sides of their family (I was divorced 18 years ago). My oldest, my son, emerged with symptoms beginning in his mid-teens, starting with panic attacks then running the spectrum through Bipolar 1 to his first full psychotic break at 17, comorbid with Substance Abuse Disorder, ending with treatment-resistant Schizoaffective Disorder w/ Psychotic Features, with schizophrenia driving the train. He died at 31, 9 months after his little brother died at 21 - he was Bipolar 1 as well, with a history of anxiety and self-harm, terrified he would end up with his brother's schizophrenia.
My middle child, my surviving daughter, has the alphabet soup - anxiety, depression, eating disorder, substance abuse disorder, PTSD, ADHD, and - we now realize - Borderline Personality Disorder (an outdated name, still called that in the DSM 5, but more appropriately referred to as Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, EUPD). EUPD means that you do not experience emotions in any "normal" way, and cannot regulate them as a neurotypical person would be able to. And it turns out that EUPD is the hardest SMI of all to live with - there are no medications, only the symptoms of the typically common comorbidities (see her list) might be helped with meds.
EUPD can only be helped with years and years of therapy, which is tough as people are therapy-resistant, experience any suggestion from therapists for developing coping skills as criticism. Many therapists will not even try to treat someone with EUPD. Add to all of that a terror of being abandoned...]
* You can see why I am deeply appreciative, grateful for your courage in sharing your own story. So many people are carrying their own sack of rocks, in isolation and suffering. So again, thank you. You are brave. Keep fighting the tricks our brains play, the lies they tell, and keep remembering all that is good in your life, especially the love for and from your beautiful family. Even after losing two of my three children, that is my comfort, my solace, my sanctuary - I had, and still have, all that love. So much love. Remember.
I’m so sorry to read that two of your children have died, Linda, what an unbearable tragedy. You have my heartfelt sympathy and deepest compassion. I’m equally sorry that your daughter has so much to contend with and I wish her all the strength and love she needs; she’s lucky to have you as her mom. I cannot overstate how much I admire you for sharing your story, what courage and fortitude you have. We don’t know each other but I have deep respect for you and I wish you and your family well.
Ah, you are kind, thank you so very much. (I feel that I have intruded too much on Tony's story tho, and I regret that, I came back here to delete my post, and only re-post my respect and gratitude.)
Through all the darkness of the last 25 years, there was often light. I learned many things on this journey, but two above all. Firstly, the love never leaves, it is always there, filling your heart. Secondly, you have only to just turn your head a bit and look 10 feet away - you will see someone carrying a far heavier weight than your own. None of us make it through unscathed...
Where I come down is here - lucky. I was lucky to have my boys for as long as I did. I was lucky they were mine, that I loved and was loved in return, still am. I tell my daughter how much I love her at every possible opportunity (sadly, limited, as she is often overwhelmed and incommunicado - but I text anyway, gently and without expectation of reply).
I often look up at the night sky, and remember that, whether we are given 9 months, 9 years or 90, we are all less than the blink of an eye to the life of a star. I have two stars for my boys - Betelgeuse, the red giant on Orion's shoulder, and Arcturus, my summer substitute for the months Orion doesn't rise, the brightest star in our heavens (follow the arc of the handle of Ursa Major, Arcturus will be right there, always there).
What extraordinary strength and wisdom you have. I’m in awe. It’s late, but I wanted to say how much your words move me and that I will look for those stars. How wonderful that they symbolize your everlasting love for your sons.
Having lived with both depression for decades and then adding on anxiety some years ago, I hear you. I recognize your struggles. Depression suuucks, and lies, all the time. But anxiety? Anxiety can kill you. And the kick in the (literal) head is that you can have both at the same time, they are completely different systems in the brain. Fun stuff.
Thank you for sharing this, for speaking up. In doing so you help to end the stigma, you give people hope, and you remind us that help is available - that treatment can work. Respect and gratitude - my highest praise.
[A digression, my own story (apologies):
All three of my children inherited the Serious Mental Illness that runs back generations on both sides of their family (I was divorced 18 years ago). My oldest, my son, emerged with symptoms beginning in his mid-teens, starting with panic attacks then running the spectrum through Bipolar 1 to his first full psychotic break at 17, comorbid with Substance Abuse Disorder, ending with treatment-resistant Schizoaffective Disorder w/ Psychotic Features, with schizophrenia driving the train. He died at 31, 9 months after his little brother died at 21 - he was Bipolar 1 as well, with a history of anxiety and self-harm, terrified he would end up with his brother's schizophrenia.
My middle child, my surviving daughter, has the alphabet soup - anxiety, depression, eating disorder, substance abuse disorder, PTSD, ADHD, and - we now realize - Borderline Personality Disorder (an outdated name, still called that in the DSM 5, but more appropriately referred to as Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, EUPD). EUPD means that you do not experience emotions in any "normal" way, and cannot regulate them as a neurotypical person would be able to. And it turns out that EUPD is the hardest SMI of all to live with - there are no medications, only the symptoms of the typically common comorbidities (see her list) might be helped with meds.
EUPD can only be helped with years and years of therapy, which is tough as people are therapy-resistant, experience any suggestion from therapists for developing coping skills as criticism. Many therapists will not even try to treat someone with EUPD. Add to all of that a terror of being abandoned...]
* You can see why I am deeply appreciative, grateful for your courage in sharing your own story. So many people are carrying their own sack of rocks, in isolation and suffering. So again, thank you. You are brave. Keep fighting the tricks our brains play, the lies they tell, and keep remembering all that is good in your life, especially the love for and from your beautiful family. Even after losing two of my three children, that is my comfort, my solace, my sanctuary - I had, and still have, all that love. So much love. Remember.
Sending you strength, Linda (a fellow 3 a.m.-er)
I’m so sorry to read that two of your children have died, Linda, what an unbearable tragedy. You have my heartfelt sympathy and deepest compassion. I’m equally sorry that your daughter has so much to contend with and I wish her all the strength and love she needs; she’s lucky to have you as her mom. I cannot overstate how much I admire you for sharing your story, what courage and fortitude you have. We don’t know each other but I have deep respect for you and I wish you and your family well.
Ah, you are kind, thank you so very much. (I feel that I have intruded too much on Tony's story tho, and I regret that, I came back here to delete my post, and only re-post my respect and gratitude.)
Through all the darkness of the last 25 years, there was often light. I learned many things on this journey, but two above all. Firstly, the love never leaves, it is always there, filling your heart. Secondly, you have only to just turn your head a bit and look 10 feet away - you will see someone carrying a far heavier weight than your own. None of us make it through unscathed...
Where I come down is here - lucky. I was lucky to have my boys for as long as I did. I was lucky they were mine, that I loved and was loved in return, still am. I tell my daughter how much I love her at every possible opportunity (sadly, limited, as she is often overwhelmed and incommunicado - but I text anyway, gently and without expectation of reply).
I often look up at the night sky, and remember that, whether we are given 9 months, 9 years or 90, we are all less than the blink of an eye to the life of a star. I have two stars for my boys - Betelgeuse, the red giant on Orion's shoulder, and Arcturus, my summer substitute for the months Orion doesn't rise, the brightest star in our heavens (follow the arc of the handle of Ursa Major, Arcturus will be right there, always there).
Lucky.
What extraordinary strength and wisdom you have. I’m in awe. It’s late, but I wanted to say how much your words move me and that I will look for those stars. How wonderful that they symbolize your everlasting love for your sons.